


Dinner Party

by spowell Count Dracula series (SPowell)



Series: Count Dracula [21]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Bondage, Bonding, Branding, Dehumanizing, F/F, F/M, Humiliation, M/M, M/M/M, Mind Control, Multi, Pet, Plugging, dark!fic, enslavement, evil!Merlin, m/m/f
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-14
Updated: 2014-12-14
Packaged: 2018-03-01 11:42:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2771747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SPowell/pseuds/spowell%20Count%20Dracula%20series
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur becomes Fluffy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dinner Party

**Author's Note:**

> Please heed the warnings. Forced compliance to be a pet. Dehumanizing behavior. M/M/F. M/M/M.

Arthur had never seen anything like the shorts he’d been left to wear. They were made of tight, white leather that squeezed and barely covered his cock, and they completely lacked a back so that his entire arse was bare to the world. Arthur had under pants that covered much more than these did, and he shuddered in humiliation at the thought of wearing them publicly. Surely the Count would bring him more to put on. The only other thing on the bed was a beaded white collar that sparkled in the light of the candles. Arthur knelt on the floor, trying to fasten it about his neck when the Count walked back into the room. Immediately, Dracula bent and fastened the collar for Arthur. It pressed uncomfortably against Arthur’s Adam’s apple.

Dracula stood back and studied Arthur, gaze lingering on the bulge in the front of the tight shorts. As Arthur’s cock hardened under the Count’s observation, the bulge lengthened, cock tip peeking out of the bottom of the shorts.

“Tonight you are not my blood mate, but my pet.” The Count lifted something off the dresser. It looked like a pair of white dog’s ears attached to a head band. The Count arranged it on Arthur’s head.

“Face to the ground,” he ordered, and Arthur obeyed. He felt something prod at his arse hole and then push in, large and burning. He cringed as the Count gave it a twist. Next, the Count attached something to Arthur’s collar. A long white leash. He pulled at it.

“Walk on all fours and follow.” They crossed the room to the corner where the Count pulled a red velvet cloth from a long mirror and stepped away from it. “Look at yourself.”

Arthur looked. A stiff tail stuck up from his bare behind with a ball of white fluff at the end. Perky dog’s ears sat on his head and a dog collar circled his neck. He looked ridiculous…and oddly scandalous.

“One last thing. Up on your knees.”

The Count returned with something small, white, and beaded in his hands. While Arthur held his breath, Dracula attached first one, then the other to Arthur’s nipples. They pinched horribly, but Arthur did not cry out. The Count petted his head. “Good boy. Down.”

Arthur got back down.

“As I said, tonight you are my pet and I am your master. You will not speak unless I directly ask you a question, and then you will address me as Master. I will address you as Fluffy.” He leaned down and smacked Arthur’s arse, and Arthur yelped. The smack was quite painful, but more than that, it jolted the plug holding the tail. “In all ways, you will be my pet tonight. Understood?”

“Yes, Master.”

“You will at all times walk on all fours unless directed otherwise.”

“Yes, Master.”

“You will act in obedience and do as you’re told.”

“Yes, Master.”

“Good. Come with me.”

The Count looked magnificent in his tailored tuxedo, and Arthur cast admiring glances as he followed the Count down the hall, trying his best to walk on all fours while Dracula tugged at his leash. The stairs were particularly difficult to manage, and when they got to the bottom of them, Arthur blushed to find that Leander and Will had been watching his struggle.

The night was cold, but Arthur got no cloak as the others did. Even Will nestled beneath Leander’s wrap. The pavement bruised and scratched Arthur’s skin as he crawled across it to the carriage. Leander and Will got in first, and then the Count smacked Arthur’s arse with his cane, prompting him to jump up. As Dracula settled into a seat, he pushed Arthur into the floor, forcing him to lay his head on Dracula’s boots for the duration of the ride.

Humiliated and sore, Arthur lay still, listening to the Count chat with his cousin. Even Will didn’t have to sit on the floor—he curled beside Leander, softly sucking on one of his fingers. Arthur was full of trepidation of what was to come. A dinner party? How many people would there be? How many would witness his degradation? Underlying all that was a perverse need to please his mate along with a strange curiosity for the entire business. Presently, the Count reached down and began toying with the plug in Arthur’s arse. Arthur whimpered and tried to wiggle away as it repeatedly hit his prostate . This earned a hard slap to his butt cheek, and Arthur stilled.

The carriage stopped, and Arthur struggled from it at the Count’s insistent tugging. All he could see was pavement and feet as he crawled along the ground. A door opened and the sounds of chatter and merriment seeped out into the cold night. Dry leaves skittered past Arthur’s line of vision, and he pressed himself against Dracula’s leg.

“Why, Count Dracula! Have you brought a lovely pet?” A woman’s voice asked delightedly.

“Yes, this is Fluffy.”

Arthur felt a hand pet through his hair and over his bare back.

“Simply gorgeous,” the woman cooed. “Perhaps we could have him breed my Cissy.”

“No,” the Count replied. “I do not wish to breed him.” He tugged on the sparkling leash and Arthur followed Dracula into the entryway, his knees aching.

“Leander!” The same woman greeted. “Oh, yummy! You’ve brought Will.”

“But of course! Would I leave him behind?”

The woman laughed gaily. “Never! I would certainly hope not. Bring him in here for a treat.”

The Count was speaking with a bearded man, and Arthur sat on his haunches, venturing a look about. No one seemed to be surprised to see a human on a leash, which lessened the humiliation factor just a bit. His nipples ached from the sparkling clamps, and the plug in his arse pressed agonizingly to his prostate every time he moved. His mouth was terribly dry.

“Would you like to let Fluffy off his leash?” the hostess asked. “I have some water in a dish for him. He can drink with Cissy.”

“He is a new pet. I do not wish to take him off his leash. I’ll lead him to the water, though.” The Count led Arthur into the kitchen where a girl bent over a silver bowl on the floor, lapping up water. She had dark curls all over her head and an equally curly tail hanging from her bare arse. Unlike Arthur, she was completely nude.

“Fluffy, this is Cissy,” the hostess said. “Go on, give her a sniff.”

The Count took Arthur by the collar and led his face to Cissy’s behind. Arthur’s face suffused with blood, he was so embarrassed.

“Sniff,” the Count ordered.

Arthur did so.

“Now give it a lick.”

Arthur tentatively put out his tongue, brushing it across the girl’s right arse cheek.

“Good pet.” Dracula let go so that Arthur could drink from the bowl. He lapped up the water as best he could, very aware that his exposed arse rose straight in the air as he did so.

Arthur knelt beside Dracula’s seat during dinner, taking scraps of food from his fingers and licking them clean. Will did the same for Leander. Arthur wondered why Will wore clothes—albeit tight ones—rather than the sort of pet outfit that Arthur wore, or no outfit like Cissy, who crouched by the hostess’s chair, looking up at her with big, blue eyes surrounded by lush, dark lashes.

Dracula scratched behind Arthur’s ear, and Arthur rested his head against the Count’s leg. He jerked when the Count moved his leg outward and undid his pants. Arthur stared for a moment before a sharp tug to his leash brought him under the table, his face to the Count’s groin. He started to take the Count’s cock out with his hands, but got a strangling yank from the leash, so Arthur thought about it a moment before beginning to lap at the engorged organ with his tongue. The Count’s fingers crept into Arthur’s hair, stroking his approval.

“Brandy?” Arthur heard a man ask. Dishes clattered and conversation rose and fell. Arthur became aware that Cissy was now under the table as well, pleasuring the bearded man.

“To the library?” someone asked, and to Arthur’s disappointment, Dracula pulled away from Arthur, zipping up his flies. The leash tugged, and Arthur barely had a chance to wipe the spit from his mouth before he was crawling out from under the table and across the hallway.

“I must say, Count; that pet of yours has a fine arse. Is that your initial there? Why, it is! Look, Jonesy! Count, might I have a go at him?”

Arthur’s insides froze in fear. Surely the Count wouldn’t allow it. They were blood mates, after all.

“Precisely the reason I brought him, Ludwig,” Dracula answered.

“Good man!”

Arthur balked, and the Count had the drag him into the library where a dozen men congregated. When Arthur looked up, one was stripping out of his trousers. Arthur whimpered.

“Bring him here, Dracula. I need a bit of encouragement.”

The Count guided Arthur to the man’s feet and up on his haunches.

“Open, Fluffy.”

Arthur looked up at him, eyes begging.

“Open,” the Count snapped, flicking at a nipple clamp.

When Arthur still didn’t open, the Count slapped him hard across the face. Arthur opened his mouth, and the man slipped his flaccid cock inside.

“Suck.” The Count massaged at Arthur’s jaw and throat. “Come on—don’t embarrass your master. Show the man what you can do.” He kept a finger nestled inside the back of the collar, guiding Arthur’s head.

Arthur began to suck, and he heard the small gasp from the Count’s lips. Suddenly filled with malicious ire, Arthur sucked harder, gathering spit in his mouth and running his tongue over the man’s cock head. The cock inside Arthur’s mouth grew, and the man threw his head back and groaned. Beside him, Dracula made a strangled sound.

 _Well, I hope this is hurting you, as it is hurting me!_ Arthur thought petulantly. Although the action did not give him pain, he found he did not like touching a man other than his mate.

To hurt the Count further, Arthur began to mewl and whine in his throat as though he were enjoying the loathsome task. Dracula growled, low and threatening.

A moment later and the plug was savagely yanked from Arthur’s hole to be replaced by an achingly familiar shaft that pumped hard into him, forcing the other man’s cock deeper into Arthur’s throat. Arthur choked, eyes watering. A surge of cum filled his mouth, and the man withdrew only to be replaced by another, larger cock, pumping wildly into Arthur’s sore mouth as the Count continued to plunder him from behind. Two, three more cocks, and still the Count fucked Arthur from behind.

When it was over, the tail returned, its entry eased by the copious amount of sperm the Count had deposited into Arthur’s arse.

“Rest,” Dracula ordered, leading Arthur to a pillow on the floor. The girl Cissy came to nestle up beside him, immediately closing her eyes and dozing off.

Arthur was vaguely aware of the antics going on in the next room. He could hear Leander directing Will to suck this and fuck that, smatterings of applause, and the occasional groan or scream of completion.

Sometime later, the Count roused Arthur. “It’s time to leave, Fluffy. Come thank our hostess.”

Arthur got up, just barely remembering not to rise to his feet, and stretched his limbs as best he could. Dracula tugged at his leash, but rather than heading for the parlour, they went into a side room.

“Catherine?” Dracula called.

“In here, Dear.”

“Oh, there you are. We’ve had a very nice time. I’ve brought Fluffy in to thank you.”

Catherine sat on a long settee. At the Count’s words, she brought her feet to the floor and gathered her long skirts to her waist, revealing smooth thighs and furry cunny. “That’s lovely! Come, Fluffy.” She patted her leg. Arthur moved forward between her legs.

“I’m afraid he isn’t very skilled,” the Count said. Kneeling next to Arthur, he prodded Catherine’s legs open a bit more and pointed to her folds. “You lick here.” He opened a fold with two fingers. “Especially here. See? Good pet.” He patted Arthur’s head and moved back to sit beside Catherine, who situated herself against the pillows. The Count took one of her legs and propped it on his own, then motioned for Arthur to proceed.

Arthur had never done this to a woman. He’d only been with prostitutes, and he’d never wanted to do it to them. He had to admit, he was curious. Pressing his face to Catherine’s hairy cunny, he ran his tongue over the crease, encouraged by her gasp of pleasure. The Count grunted beside him. Arthur had found he didn’t hurt when he obeyed the Count’s orders and touched someone, but evidently the Count did, or perhaps he simply vocally protested every time.

Arthur licked again, and again, finding the taste odd but not objectionable. He’d thought a time or two that he might do this to Gwendolyn after they were wed, lifting her virginal white night gown on their wedding night and debauching her entirely. Those thoughts had made him hard, and now he suspected that his desire lay more in the debauchery than the act itself. He lapped like the dog he was, running his tongue everywhere, but most particularly over the nub that the Count had showed him. Juices began to flow, coating Arthur’s face, and Catherine writhed on the settee. Arthur glanced up to see the Count unbuttoning her blouse and growled in reaction. He got a slap to his nose for it.

Arthur put his tongue deep inside Catherine’s cunny, wiggling it as his eyes followed the movements of Dracula’s hands—opening the blouse, carefully parting it before pushing down the chemise to reveal plump breasts with dark nipples. Dracula pinched first one nipple and then the other, and Catherine cried out. Dracula’s eyes never left Arthur’s, and Arthur could feel his own cock poking out from the edge of the shorts and dripping onto his leg.

Arthur licked harder and faster as the Count fondled the heavy globes, thumbs running over the nipples, making them stand erect. Catherine’s eyes were closed and her lips parted, moaning helplessly.

“Lick, Fluffy,” Dracula ordered. “Make the lady come.”

Arthur obediently lapped at the small bundle of nerves, jaw aching, until Catherine arched and shattered, body trembling and juices pouring out of her to further coat Arthur’s face. Dracula bent down to kiss Arthur and partake of them, tongues dueling.

“Time to go home,” he whispered into Arthur’s mouth.


End file.
